Jennifer felt suddenly ill.
“Jackson was acquitted on a technicality that some hotshot lawyer cooked up.” When Di Silva spoke again his voice was filled with contempt. “That the man you want walking around the streets?”
“May I see that dossier, please?”
Silently, Di Silva handed it to Jennifer and she began reading it. It was Jack Scanlon. There was no question about it. There was a police mug shot of him stapled to the yellow sheet. He had looked younger then and he had no beard, but there was no mistaking him. Jack Scanlon—Frank Jackson—had lied to her about everything. He had made up his life story and Jennifer had believed every word. He had been so convincing that she had not even taken the trouble to have Ken Bailey check him out.
Judge Barnard said, “May I see that?”
Jennifer handed the dossier to him. The judge glanced through it and then looked at Jennifer. “Well?”
“I won’t represent him.”
Di Silva raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You shock me, Miss Parker. You’re always saying that everyone is entitled to a lawyer.”
“Everyone is,” Jennifer replied evenly, “but I have a hard and fast rule: I won’t represent anyone who lies to me. Mr. Jackson will have to get himself another lawyer.”
Judge Barnard nodded. “The court will arrange that.”
Osborne said, “I’d like his bail revoked immediately, Your Honor. I think he’s too dangerous to be walking the streets.”
Judge Barnard turned to Jennifer. “As of this moment you’re still the attorney of record, Miss Parker. Do you have any objection to that?”
“No,” Jennifer said tightly. “None.”
Judge Barnard said, “I’ll order his bail revoked.”
Judge Lawrence Waldman had invited Jennifer to a charity dinner that evening. She had felt drained after the events of the afternoon and would have preferred to go home and have a quiet evening with Joshua, but she did not want to disappoint the judge. She changed clothes at the office and met Judge Waldman at the Waldorf-Astoria, where the party was taking place.
It was a gala event, with half a dozen Hollywood stars entertaining, but Jennifer was unable to enjoy it. Her mind was elsewhere. Judge Waldman had been watching her.
“Is anything wrong, Jennie?”
She managed a smile. “No, just a business problem, Lawrence.”
And what kind of business am I really in, Jennifer wondered, dealing with the dregs of humanity, the rapists and killers and kidnappers? She decided it would be a wonderful night to get drunk.
The captain came over to the table and whispered in Jennifer’s ear. “Excuse me, Miss Parker, there’s a telephone call for you.”
Jennifer felt an instant sense of alarm. The only one who knew where to reach her was Mrs. Mackey. She could only be calling because something was wrong.
“Excuse me,” Jennifer said.
She followed the captain to a small office off the lobby.
Jennifer picked up the receiver and a man’s voice whispered, “You bitch! You double-crossed me.”
Jennifer felt her body begin to tremble. “Who is this?” she asked.
But she knew.
“You told the cops to come and get me.”
“That’s not true! I—”
“You promised to help me.”
“I will help you. Where are—?”
“You lying cunt!” His voice dropped so low she could hardly make out his words. “You’re going to pay for this. Oh, you’re going to pay for this!”
“Wait a min—”
The telephone was dead. Jennifer stood there, chilled. Something had gone terribly wrong. Frank Jackson, alias Jack Scanlon, had somehow escaped and he was blaming Jennifer for what had happened. How had he known where she was? He must have followed her here. He could be waiting outside for her now.
Jennifer was trying to control the trembling of her body, trying to think, to reason out what had happened. He had seen the police coming to arrest him, or perhaps they had picked him up and he had gotten away from them. How did not matter. The important thing was that he was blaming her for what had happened.
Frank Jackson had killed before and he could kill again. Jennifer went into the ladies’ room and stayed there until she was calm again. When she had regained control of herself, she returned to the table.
Judge Waldman took one look at her face. “What on earth’s happened?”
Jennifer told him briefly. He was aghast.
“Good God! Would you like me to drive you home?”
“I’ll be all right, Lawrence. If you could just make sure I get to my car safely, I’ll be fine.”
They quietly slipped out of the large ballroom and Judge Waldman stayed with Jennifer until the attendant brought her car.
“You’re certain you don’t want me to come with you?”
“Thanks. I’m sure the police will pick him up before morning. There aren’t many people walking around who look like him. Good night.”
Jennifer drove off, making sure no one was following her. When she was certain she was alone, she turned onto the Long Island Expressway and headed for home.
She kept looking in her rearview mirror, checking the cars behind her. Once she pulled off the road to let all the traffic pass her, and when the road behind her was clear, she drove on. She felt safer now. It could not be many hours before the police picked up Frank Jackson. There would be a general alert out for him by this time.
Jennifer turned into her driveway. The grounds and the house, which should have been brightly lighted, were dark. She sat in the car staring at the house unbelievingly, her mind beginning to shriek with alarm. Frantically, she tore the car door open and raced to the front door. It was ajar. Jennifer stood there for an instant, filled with terror, then stepped into the reception hall. Her foot kicked something warm and soft and she let out an involuntary gasp. She turned on the lights. Max lay on the blood-soaked rug. The dog’s throat had been cut from ear to ear.